


Selling Ice To Eskimos

by Knave_Iespyk



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon), She-Ra: Princess Of Power
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-09
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-29 06:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knave_Iespyk/pseuds/Knave_Iespyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following an extra-dimensional experience, Liquidator decides to seek love in a new place.  Only things don't go as expected.  Sort of a follow-up to Fearsome Lunataks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selling Ice To Eskimos

Selling Ice To Eskimos

Bud Flood entered the small greenhouse located at the top a hill. At one point he had been nothing more than a simple water salesman, until Darkwing Duck had tried to kill him. Oh there was more to the story than that, but Bud still blamed St. Canard’s hero for what had happened to him. The accident had turned his body in to water, pushing an already damaged psyche further in to the realm of evil and thus the villainous Liquidator had been born. Corporate espionage had given way to a veritable thirst for revenge, and thirst was something that his new liquid body was unaccustomed to.

But he wasn’t thirsting for revenge right now, he was thirsting for something else. Not too long ago he and the rest of his cohorts in crime, the Fearsome Five, had been transported to another dimension where he had come across a fascinating woman. She sent chills up his spine and his blood boil with desire, except that he didn’t technically have either blood or spine.

There had been only one solution to his mind, he needed to see her again and convince her that a relationship, or at least a one-night stand, was in her best interests. He was a salesman first and foremost, and if he could convince the people of Oilrabia to buy sand, then surely he could convince Chilla of the Lunataks to sleep with him.

Step one had been remarkably easy. Sneak in to the home of Morgana Macawbre and steal a particular spell book she was rumoured to own. Fortunately he was hardly the only one with romance on the brain, as the sorceress was out on a hot date with Darkwing Duck at present and thus was unaware of his presence. To improve matters, he had discovered that the plumbing to her mansion was ancient with plenty of leaky faucets for him to slip through, avoiding the assorted critters who might be keeping a lookout.

The book itself was an old blue book covered with green writing and bound with a silver lock. He slipped it in to a waterproof bag and disappeared back in to the night.

Which led him here. One of the biggest drawbacks to being a liquid based person was the difficulty in handling things such as paper, which is where a second set of hands came in handy. The greenhouse was home to his closest friend, Bushroot. While still a criminal, Bushroot was also a gentle soul. His life of crime had come as a result of bullying and an experiment gone awry. Bushroot had come to accept, and even appreciate, his newfound plant powers, but it was difficult to fit in with the rest of society.

Negaduck, Megavolt and Quackerjack, at least, could walk the streets without attracting attention if they chose. Bushroot and Liquidator were kindred spirits in that they couldn’t. More than once the two had spent an evening commiserating over the inability to blend in.

A dwarf sapling opened the door for him as he approached the greenhouse, indicating that Bushroot knew he was there. The grass had told him, probably. The plants looked out for their gardener, protected him and comforted him. They also appreciated Liquidator’s talents, as water was one of those things they needed to live.

“I’m over here,” came Reginald’s voice from a side room. “Just by the marigolds.” He followed the sound of the voice and found the former duck huddled over a table. One of his plants must have fallen out of its pot and he was carefully tending to the damage.

“Ah, another satisfied customer,” Liquidator said, watching the little flower settle itself in its new pot, running a leafy finger through the fresh soil.

“We had a bird get in, scared this poor daffodil off the counter.” Liquidator chose not to ask what had happened to the bird as a result, especially given the number of carnivorous plants in the greenhouse. They were handy for body disposals, though he’d never used them that way himself. “What brings you here, especially on foot?”

The giveaway. Liquidator didn’t walk unless he absolutely had to. Carrying the book inside his person meant that he couldn’t just flow through pipes or flow quite so freely through the sewer system. He had to be careful not to damage his prize in anyway, a prize that he held out to his comrade. “I am in need of some assistance and am willing to pay top dollar for it. You have something I need and no reasonable offer will be turned down. You, my leafy friend, will help me read this book.”

Bushroot took the book out of the protective bag and raised a worried eyebrow when he saw what it was. “A spell book? It’s not dangerous is it? You’re not trying to summon any demons, are you?”

“Dangerous demons? Absolutely not, the Liquidator can guarantee that there will be no demon summoning today or your money back, and if there’s one thing you can count on, it’s that I don’t like giving money back to anyone. No, the spell I have in mind should summon something far more attractive to the eye, a woman who has managed to capture the watery heart of the Liquidator,” he placed his hands melodramatically over his chest as if to reassure Bushroot.

The other eyebrow joined its companion high up on the scalp. “You’re doing this for love? Who are you and what have you done with Liquidator?” There was skepticism in his voice, but also a mixture of sympathy and humour. It was the other reason Liquidator had come to Bushroot, the man knew how powerful the pull of love could be, being enamoured of Rhoda Dendron for years. He couldn’t imagine that any of the others would quite understand the same way.

“Indeed I am, this is no generic brand Liquidator you’re looking at but the genuine article. So, will you help?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

* * *

The coast was clear. Bushroot felt a little odd stooping to something so mundane, but the ingredient list had been clear on the matter. Undergarments of the same gender as the person you want to summon. He wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but slipped in to the laundry room of a nearby residence and helped himself to both a pink bra and matching panties. Somehow he couldn’t picture Chilla wearing either, but the spell hadn’t said anything about matching the person’s personal tastes.

He peaked out the back door, listening intently. The last thing he wanted was to attract attention to himself. He’d reluctantly been part of such a raid once before at summer camp, and had been mortified when his parents had been told.

On the other hand, Darkwing Duck would be so confused by this crime spree that Bushroot might just get away with it. Darkwing seemed very straightlaced and the mental image of his arch rivals cross-dressing might be enough to make his head explode. Seeing no one around, Bushroot slipped back in to the woods and dropped off his prize.

* * *

Liquidator was having a harder time. All the ingredients seemed to be themed to present a romantic evening with his chosen person. The two had simply divided the list and gone their separate ways. He’d already picked up some folding chairs and had broken in to a house to collect a mattress. The problem was, there was someone using it. He didn’t really want to attract attention to the little crime wave, but needed the man out of his bed.

A wicked idea came to his head. He moved quietly to the edge of the bed and took the man’s hand in his own, letting the warm water coat his fingers. A startled gasp later, and the man was running for the bathroom. With the man gone Liquidator took the mattress and slipped out as quickly as he could.

* * *

“This spell book is useless,” Bushroot was in the process of ranting as Liquidator set the mattress on the floor. There were undergarments and candles already on the work bench, alongside the chairs that he’d brought in earlier.

“Having troubles?” he asked.

“You bet I am. The third thing here. A salad using lettuce and tomatoes. What does that mean, could they be more vague? Do they want Beefsteak tomatoes? Plum? Campari? And what about lettuces, I’ve got butterhead, romaine, iceberg, looseleaf...”

Liquidator cut off the rant. Bushroot knew his plants and was not fond of sloppiness. Fortunately, the authors of the spell book were probably long dead so they wouldn’t have to deal with the angry scientist. “I don’t know about the tomatoes,” he said, “but I’m thinking iceberg lettuce sounds appropriate for the woman I want to summon.”

“I guess that makes sense. They probably want cherry tomatoes too, pushy things try to get put on everything. Okay, I’ll go see if I have any volunteers, that and the rose petals we need. Where are you headed next?” Bushroot sighed.

“I have to go find silk bed sheets, apparently. Guess I’m off to the St. Canard department store, where all your dreams can come true.”

“I don’t think they had magical summoning spells in mind when they named it. Good luck.”

* * *

For all the trouble they were going through he hoped it was worth the effort. Liquidator had inscribed some silver runes on the floor and placed both the romantic dinner setting and the sexual bedroom setting inside the pattern. Bushroot was very carefully placing the last of the rose petals on the bed. One of his bushes had seemed thrilled to be taking part in something so special and had picked out its finest flower for the cause. While he didn’t understand the situation per se, he appreciated the help.

Of course, just because he’d spirited Chilla here didn’t mean that he would be successful in charming the tights off of her. He had faith in his charms, but women were notoriously fickle creatures. “Now you have to say the secret chant,” Bushroot said, glancing at the book.

“Sounds like a simple job for someone with my public speaking skills,” he replied, sloshing over to the open book. “Oh book of desires, I call upon your awesome powers, come on baby light my fires, I use words of love and flowers. Transport my heart’s need through the timeless void so that she may be at my side. Lleps yllis a si siht.” Lightning crackled through the room, causing many of the plants to scream in fear, begging Bushroot to protect them.

There was no one to protect Liquidator. Second thoughts began to creep in, had he just made a terrible mistake? After all, Morganna had hard enough time casting her own darn spells, what if it wasn’t so much the caster as it was the texts?

The light began to fade and there was a feminine moan from the bed, a pale blue cape covering her. Bushroot seemed to have taken off, but he couldn’t be blamed. He wasn’t the bravest of the Fearsome Five, even if he was loyal. “Where am I?” the woman said, causing Liquidator to pause. Chilla’s voice was raspier, and didn’t she have white hair, not blue? The woman turned and he realized it was very definitely not Chilla. This woman’s skin was pinkish, not blue, and she certainly did not seem to recognize him. She did, however, have a very similar angry look. “You’re one of Hordak’s uglier minions.”

Who was Hordak? It didn’t matter, really. He needed to figure out what had gone wrong with the spell and see if he could reverse it. “Having difficulty telling how attractive a person is? Confused because you accidentally got brought in to another dimension? Well sit tight, and let Liquidator figure out what hell went wrong.” She blasted him with ice, nearly freezing him solid. Only his experience at being fluid allowed him to evade the attack.

“You’ll get nothing out of me, fiend. She-Ra will rescue me,” the woman snapped, firing more ice at him. With any luck this ‘She-Ra’ wouldn’t be nearly the bitch this woman was. He wasn’t about to let her get away with attacking him, so he sprayed a column of water at her. She sprayed ice again, freezing the column. It was, he reflected even as she did it, rather stupid. The solid block of ice crashed in to her, knocking the wind from her stomach.

He scooped up the handcuffs the spell had asked for and moved over to her. “I’m guessing you’re not very bright,” Liquidator said, slapping one cuff on her wrist. He didn’t know where Bushroot had gotten these, but sure hoped they were the real deal. It would be a shame if this woman was able to escape due to sub-standard handcuffs. “Now be a good girl and hold tight.”

* * *

Poring over the spell book, Liquidator couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. Surely it couldn’t be so simple as what Bushroot had suggested, that the book wasn’t specific enough on the variety of items. Could cherry tomatoes versus beefsteak really make that much of a difference? Was it because he’d chosen white sheets instead of purple? There were so many potential variables, he didn’t know where to begin.

What he needed to do was send this woman who breathed ice back to wherever she belonged and summon the other woman who breathed ice. But what if he got it wrong again? What if he summoned someone else who could control ice? Worse, what if he summoned a man who could? This one was at least kind of cute, in a pinky kind of way.

The door to the green house slammed open, a cloud of purple smoke filling the room. Liquidator knew what that meant even before he heard the sanctimonious prattle. “I am the terror that flaps in the night,” the voice of Darkwing Duck echoed around him. “I am the uncomfortable feeling when you realize you’ve left your wallet at home. I am... apparently interrupting something.”

Keen eyes spotted Darkwing standing on the sprinkler system looking down on the scene. Liquidator could well imagine what it looked like. Having a woman handcuffed to the bed, struggling to get free, was hardly going to be seen as anything but non-consensual sex.

“This is a new low for you, Liquidator. Raping innocent women, don’t worry young lady Darkwing Duck is here to save you,” he shouted, swooping down.

Were all do-gooders stupid? Liquidator didn’t even bother to move as the caped crime fighter flew through him, crashing in to the table and knocking the spell book to the floor. “The Liquidator doesn’t need to resort to kidnapping for dates,” he said, knowing full well that pointing out that it wasn’t what it looked like wouldn’t work. Darkwing Duck had an opinion formed on the situation and no argument would change his mind.

“I’m here to put you under glass, Liquidator. You made one critical mistake in your crime spree. This blade of grass you left at the crime scene, found only in one place; Bushroot’s Green House. Where is your pilfering plant-based partner in plunder anyway?”

It was a question he was starting to wonder too. Hopefully he was on his way back to supply back-up. Darkwing always seemed to come out ahead in these encounters, and a second set of hands would be nice.

“I am Queen Frosta of the Kingdom of the Snows and I demand you release me at once!” the struggling woman shouted.

“Never heard of it,” Liquidator said, sloshing out of the way of a Darkwing gas canister. “But the ransom for a queen sounds very profitable. Perhaps I can make this mistake work out after all.” How he would get this kingdom to get him the money, and whether it would be acceptable currency in St. Canard, was a question he would worry about later. There was still a hero to deal with. And if Darkwing managed to free Frosta the odds would tilt in their favour. He couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Darkwing was rummaging in his cape for a new canister, probably something specially designed to imprison him. Probably a Jello package or something, that wouldn’t do at all. An idea popped in to his head. He dove at the ground, sinking in to the soil readily, and moved as swiftly as he could. Darkwing would expect an attack from beneath, but Liquidator knew about the plumbing system, he knew that there was a leak in the line and that with it he could create a bigger surprise.

“That’s not going to work you wicked watery, erm, waffle-eating wahoo,” Darkwing stammered, hopping on to the worktable and aiming his gun at the ground. It was hardly one of the hero’s better alliterations, but there were only so many words that began with W.

“Having trouble insulting your enemies Darkwing? Let the Liquidator show you that your jokes are all wet, and so are you!” The sprinklers erupted, showering Darkwing in Liquidator. He gasped as the torrential downpour knocked the gun from his hands and him down to the ground. Liquidator reformed, pinning his adversary beneath him. He grabbed a second set of handcuffs and placed Darkwing next to Frosta as his prisoner.

“Two hostages. A shame there is no one offering money to take Darkwing off my hands. Maybe Negaduck, don’t go anywhere you two. I’ve got some calls to make,” he chuckled and headed away.

* * *

“Some rescue you turned out to be. Even Madame Razz could have done a better job,” Frosta grumbled softly to herself.

“All part of my clever plan. Let the villain think he has you beaten while I,” there was a grunting noise, “free myself...” more grunting, followed by a thrashing “from these infernal...” Darkwing tumbled off the bed having managed to somehow get his handcuffs wrapped around his feet. “Little help?”

Frosta was not surprised. She’d had this Darkwing pegged as somewhat useless as soon as she’d heard his corny entrance. Hordak would have had an easy time with him if he were part of the rebellion, though he might have made for a momentary distraction while the real mission was underway elsewhere.

The truth was that the reality of the situation, no matter how implausible it sounded, was setting in. This planet was not Etheria, it was not nearly pastel enough for that, and for all the strange creatures that the Horde employed, Liquidator didn’t quite feel part of that. This left the possibility that she had been transported through dimensions somehow. But how could she get back?

Taking her eyes off Darkwing Duck, who was inexplicably managing to get himself more and more tangled with every passing moment, Frosta looked around the room for some means of getting home and finally saw the spell book. She had seen enough magic with Castaspella to know the rudiments. If she could get at it she could get free, but that would mean enlisting Darkwing to her cause.

“Hold still and I’ll have you free,” she said, an idea forming. “But you have to promise to uncuff me when I do.” He nodded, unable to speak since an arm had wound across his beak. Frosta shifted, touching a link in the handcuffs with one hand and concentrating fiercely. Pure cold raced along her fingertips, if they could destroy Horde tanks they would work here as well. She could hear Darkwing’s whimpering turn in to a shout of triumph.

“Once again the dashing and daring, courageous and caring, Darkwing Duck has freed himself from felonious fingers. Don’t worry young lady, I will protect you from the liquid lawbreaker.”

“I’d settle for being unchained?” Frosta said, jingling the handcuffs. He didn’t really think that he had somehow broken the cuffs, did he?

Thankfully he seemed to look somewhat grateful, and he might even have been blushing under the feathers. “Um, yes. Of course. Handcuff keys should be around here somewhere.”

“They’re on the...” she started, able to see them from her position. They were sitting on the edge of the dining table nearby.

“No, no. Don’t tell me. Darkwing Duck has the matter well in hand, he’ll have you free in a jiffy.” He began walking the opposite direction. This was going to be a long ordeal if she left it to him. She decided it would be quicker to see if she could freeze her own cuffs off, the angle was awkward but doable with effort.

* * *

Negaduck had actually been gracious, relatively speaking. He’d offered to give Liquidator an extra one percent of the loot when they took over the city, part of Megavolt’s share he’d said, in exchange for the honour of slicing Darkwing to ribbons. It was as good an offer as he was going to get, especially since he had the extra ace up his sleeve in Queen Frosta. Negotiating with her home dimension would prove tricky, but he wasn’t about to pass this up. In fact, he might even let Negaduck have this dimension if he could tap in to the vast number of dimensions out there.

Visions of loot dancing in his head, Liquidator returned to the main part of the greenhouse to find the bed empty of prisoners. Negaduck was going to kill him if the two heroes didn’t put him in jail first. Either way, not a pleasant prospect.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night...” came the distinct warning that Darkwing hadn’t just gone home. That was good, he could re-capture the caped crime fighter and have him ready for prompt delivery to Negaduck.

He saw the tell-tale smoke and blasted it with water. “Wanting to give away your location from your enemies?” Liquidator asked with a grin. “Then keep using the same old tricks that never work.”

Of course, Darkwing was a threat, but he wasn’t the only one. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him that in many ways the woman was more dangerous. Where Darkwing was arrogant and clumsy, Frosta didn’t a weapon that could be taken off of her. He wheeled around, confident that Darkwing would be spluttering for a while and groaned softly.

Standing about a metre away was Frosta with Darkwing’s gas gun. She grinned wickedly and shot him with it. Almost instantly his body began to feel ill as some kind of powdered drink mix was added to his person. He wanted to vomit as the sugary substance transformed within him. And then Frosta froze him.

* * *

“I turned Liquidator over to Darkwing Duck, who seemed to be some kind of agent of the law. I’d bet that he escapes within a week, but that’s not my problem. Left alone with the spell book I was able to send myself home. Which reminds me, something to add to your collection Castaspella,” Frosta said. Upon returning to Etheria she had immediately headed to Mystacor to report the events to her friends. Around her were many of her friends; Glimmer, Bow, Adora and Netossa.

“It sounds like you had quite the adventure, Frosta,” Adora said.

“I wouldn’t believe it myself if it weren’t for this spell book,” Frosta said. “With any luck that’s the last we’ll see from that universe.”

* * *

Meanwhile Bushroot found himself in the middle of a room full of flowers and other plants that he couldn’t recognize. They seemed friendly enough and spoke very highly of the woman who tended to them; a blonde woman with an elegant singing voice that they called Perfuma.


End file.
